The brothers were about to extinguish their campfire when a group of riders suddenly appeared from the slope to the north.
The riders, upon seeing the light, charged straight towards the brothers.
The youth recognized the tall Warhorses, tight-fitting clothes, and the riding posture of the oncoming strangers, knowing that they were not people of his kind.
"[Herde Language] Run!" the youth dragged his brother and bolted.
But two legs could never outrun four, and the brothers were quickly caught up to and surrounded by the riders.
The lead rider removed his kerchief, somewhat puzzled, asked, "Why are you running?"
The youth distinctly felt the weight of his brother suddenly pressing down on him, and in fact, his own legs involuntarily grew weak.
For he saw a face that seemed to be etched into his very marrow.
